


chia-like, i shall grow

by agitatedstates



Series: count on me [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Abuse, Emotional Abuse, M/M, Punk!Au, Substance Abuse, aranea and prompto are foster siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 20:02:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20644865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agitatedstates/pseuds/agitatedstates
Summary: “I've watched you all succeed with the highest marks in greed from my cave, where you're displayed like photographs that bleed, and my teeth grind names into their ivory membranes. I am hate everlasting with each sickly spell I'm casting”Prompto thinks the band is his ticket out, his chance. He’s convinced himself it’s all he has, all his cards on the table. He’s scared. So, so scared. What can he do? He’s trapped, imploding in on himself. Promptos self medicating, knows he’s burning out, and he thinks that everyone was right about him.orthe fall of Prompto Argentums punk career





	chia-like, i shall grow

**Author's Note:**

> heres a general warning for referenced abuse throughout, especially one with an age gap of over ten years (though theyre both adults). theres references to substance abuse as well, and this is generally full of not great things about the relationship prompto had with ardyn in this AU. this sets up a few things about the punk AU ive been wanting to do for a while, and kinda talks about why Prompto stopped playing music. its not nice
> 
> this is a way to work through trauma ive experienced from growing up as a queer kid, as well as being heavily involved in the local music scene and punk/pop punk areas. a lot of vulnerable people who went to this scene were taken advantage of, and it sucked, but writing about it makes it a little easier

A quiet, spoken word sample plays through the venue as the lights dim. Excited murmurs fill the small venue, talk of record deals signed and label talks. The band is doing well, they could _ make it _ , and they talk about that _ vocalist. _Quiet and nervous most of the time, but full of scathing wit and charisma when on stage. Prompto Argentum will be the next big thing, they all say, if he plays his cards right. 

“_ and the record begins with a song of rebellion” _

Harsh guitar fills the venue as Prompto smiles, centre stage and the centre of attention. A little four piece band, but there’s something special about the way they take the stage, Aranea Highwind on bass and a revolving door of drummers, but currently Pelna Khara fits the role. 

_ “I wouldn’t sell my belt to industry, so they carded me, and they carted me off” _

But the audience whisper about the guitarist the most, how out of place he is, how _ odd _ that Prompto seems so attached. Ardyn Izunia is older than the others, by over a decade, and if you asked the right person, you’d know that Prompto is _ with _ him. The songs people scream back at him are about Ardyn, and he has the connections that’s going to make them _ big. _They have the talent for it, Prompto the presence, everyone in the room knows it. But there’s an unspoken fear that he won’t withstand the pressure.

_ “Naked but that belt around my waist, it was my fathers once, I still see his faaaaaaace” _

Prompto plays the guitar with a passion matched by none, and it’s that enthusiasm and charisma that draws people to him. Masked behind a bubbly personality and laughter is a nervous foster kid, just trying to make a mark on the world. He sings like it’s all he has, and at 19 years old, it’s the only thing Prompto sees of worth in himself. 

_ “Hey! This is something I have to do for myself!” _

Later tonight, Prompto will smoke out the back of the venue, talk to people who watched the show, smile and laugh with them. Ardyn will walk around the corner and grab his arm a little too hard as he smiles, a little too tight in the eyes and tell Prompto it’s time to go. He’ll shyly say goodbye to everyone, and Aranea will squint her eyes at Ardyn as they go. She won’t see Prompto in their shared apartment till the next day. She worries that something is wrong, but Aranea is too scared to ask.

* * *

A door slams through the apartment. Aranea is barely awake, a sweetened coffee in her hands as she slowly gets used to the day. Cindy is sleeping in their room, barely home from her night shift before she passed out next to her girlfriend. They don’t _ live together, _ per say, but Cindy spends most of her time in Araneas apartment than her own, and Cindy's lease is ending soon. But all thoughts of her girlfriend moving in escape Aranea as Prompto walks into the kitchen, tears in his eyes and a bruise forming on his _ throat. _

“Holy fuck Prompto!”

Aranea is putting her coffee down and running to Prompto before she can think, automatically falling back into habits from their life in foster homes. Prompto has been more like Aranea’s family than anyone else, and the idea of anyone _ hurting _him has always sent her into a rage. He’s her little brother, always will be. 

“_ heylik drek, _Aranea don’t scare me like that!”

Aranea doesn’t miss the way his hand covers the bruise, how he rubs at the tears like she could have missed them. She’s digging through the freezer for an ice pack, and the action is enough for Prompto to drop the act.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Aranea finds the ice pack, and hands it to Prompto. She spots more bruises on his arms, and it _ scares her. _ Prompto stays silent, pressing the ice pack to his neck, and Aranea stares. Something is very, very wrong, and Aranea is scared that after everything, she’s going to lose Prompto to this.

“Prom-”

“It’s nothing!”

Prompto snaps, a glare at Aranea that stops her hand from making contact with his arm. She’s never heard him talk like that, ever, and that seems to make it worse. 

“Prompto, you can talk to _ me” _   
  
“What-” Prompto practically spits it at her, venomous, and it’s _ scary _ “- is there to talk about? Huh? I don’t get involved with Cindy!”

“That is different and you know it” Aranea tries not to snap back, and it takes all of her to do just that. “This- this doesn’t look good from my end Prom, I need you to talk to me.”

Prompto doesn’t look at her for a long time. He just stares towards the window, curtains obscuring most natural light but a slither where they don’t quite meet. Things have been _ hard, _much harder than they wanted them to be. 

“I’m over-reacting, Ardyn just… he didn’t listen to me and I got upset. It’s fine” Prompto tries to smile, but it looks wrong. “I’m just tired, and I got upset. I’m sorry I shouted”

Aranea knows there’s more to it, that something happened. She wants to press, wants to go over to Ardyn’s house and make sure he never touches Prompto again. Something about him _ scares _ her. Prompto deserves better than him, but as hard as Aranea tries, she can’t protect him from everything. 

* * *

Ardyns screaming backstage by the time Aranea arrives at the venue. People give her _ looks _ as she walks to the room her bandmates are in, and all she can hear is his raised voice. Ardyns temper seems to be getting worse the further the band goes. There was supposed to be discussions with a record label _ tomorrow. _ Tours organised, album deals signed, something that would get them through to where they _ want _to be. 

He’s still screaming as Aranea opens the door, and Prompto is shaking and _ crying _in the corner. Pelna is nowhere to be seen, and Aranea thinks he’s done with Ardyn’s bullshit. She expects he’ll quit soon, it’s why all the other drummers did. 

“What are _ you _looking at?” 

Ardyns sneering at her now, venom practically spitting at her. She’s tried talking to Prompto a million times about it, but she can’t get through. Aranea feels just as stuck as him.

“We’re on in ten minutes. I need my bass”

She sneaks past Ardyn, right next to Prompto, and she sees more bruises than before. He looks so tired. Aranea hasn’t seen him in days, not for longer than a few minutes, and she’s scared he hasn’t slept. 

Aranea tries to make eye contact, to find anything in Prompto’s face, but he just stares blankly. She’s never been so scared in her life, not even in foster homes, not even when they were separated. Aranea doesn’t know how to fix this. 

Ardyn huffs off out of the room, guitar in hand and ready to go on stage. Prompto dries his eyes, and makes sure he looks presentable. They have a show to play, and words die in Araneas throat as Prompto leaves the room. 

* * *

Prompto has sweat in his eyes, and he hates the way people look at him. He’s always self conscious on stage, unable to handle the lights on him, or the way he can feel eyes on him everywhere he goes. From people with arms crossed in the back rows, to words screamed back at him in the front, Prompto feels overwhelmed. All he does is scream into the microphone, play his guitar and hope the feeling goes away.

_ “I've watched you all succeed with the highest marks in greed f__rom my cave, where you're displayed _ _ like photographs that bleed, and my teeth grind names into their ivory membranes. I am hate everlasting with each sickly spell I'm casting” _

Prompto thinks the band is his ticket out, his chance. He’s convinced himself it’s all he has, all his cards on the table. He’s scared. So, _ so _scared. What can he do? He’s trapped, imploding in on himself. Promptos self medicating, knows he’s burning out, and he thinks that everyone was right about him.

He’ll only ever be a failure.

“_I discard all my feelings, the stars scar my ceiling. Sun, I won’t spare you. Moon, I won’t spare you.” _

Prompto just need to get through the show, and thinks about drowning out his misery in a bottle of something, _ anything _ he can get his hands on. All Prompto can feel is hands on his neck, eyes on him, his skin _ burning. _Where does he turn, how can he fix this? 

Prompto thinks about his sweet Grandma, who only wanted the best for him. Cursing in Yiddish as she cooked, telling him he was gonna be something one day, that his parents would be proud of him. Would she be proud of him now? Would she be happy with how Prompto lives? He doesn't know. 

He hasn't visited her grave since she died.

_ “And my pain is mine. It's become my friend with time. _ _ Chia _ _ -like, it grows. Watch it fester for my foes. One day, I'm gonna get up and get right back into the city, with my flamethrower mouth, you bet your life it won't be pretty.” _

Prompto can’t tell Aranea the truth, even if she sees it. Where do they go without Ardyn? What can they do? He knows the labels, the connections. A connection to the _ Lucis Caelums, _royalty amongst punks in their scene. Prompto sees Noctis at their shows sometimes, but Ardyns quick to take him away before they even say a word over shared cigarettes in back alleys. 

There’s something about Noctis that tells Prompto he’s gonna be something one day. People compare him to his dad, but there’s something truly special about him. Noct’s the most talented one out of all of them, has a gift for words and the presence to back them up. Prompto’s always been a fan, saw a lot of himself in those songs, and Prompto thinks that if he can’t make it, he hopes that Noctis can.

_ “Pretty boy floating face down in a pond of glue. You aren't new enough, we give up, we give up, we give up on all those like you” _

There's nowhere to go but up when you reach rock bottom, but Prompto isn't so sure he’s gone down that far. 

* * *

Ardyn dumps him over text. Tells him the bands over, _ they’re _ over, and the past two years of his life seem pointless. Prompto poured his heart and soul into all of this, only to be sent a cease and desist letter telling him the band belongs to Ardyn. 

All those songs written for him, _ about him _ , Promptos love and heart and _ everything _, thrown to the side through a text. Ardyn dumps his things outside Araneas apartment, and its half rummaged through by the time Prompto gets to it. 

Prompto doesn’t leave his room for a week. Aranea comes in, makes him eat, makes him drink. Takes the empty bottles from his room and tries to hide the alcohol away. She hopes things get better after this, and is thankful she didn’t quit her day job. But Prompto had all his cards on the table, his whole plan was the band. 

_ Never have a backup plan! _

Prompto was so sure if it was his only choice it would work. If the only option was success, he had to make sure it happened. Never have a backup plan, never plan for anything else. Backup plans imply failure, and Prompto wanted so badly for this to work. But theres nothing else now, he can’t even sing the songs _ he wrote. _

Ardyn owns everything he’s ever been proud of. Promptos heart and soul, his everything, its all gone in one movement. Where does he go? There’s no one to fall on, nothing. He feels helpless, alone and so fucking scared.

Prompto has nothing left.

He has nothing.

He _ is _nothing.

* * *

Aranea buys him a camera. Its been a month, maybe longer, he’s lost track of time since _ it _happened. Promptos thankful for something, and he doesn’t want to ask how much it cost, what Aranea did to get it. 

She convinces him to go to shows again, analysing the lineup to figure out whos going to be there, if they’ll see _ him. _But Prompto likes being at music venues again, being surrounded by people. He doesn’t feel a spotlight on him anymore, and suddenly he feels like he can breathe again.

The first show Prompto officially shoots is a Kingsglaive gig. He played a few shows with them back in the day, and Crowe and Nyx were always friendly to him, and he’s so proud of the way all the photos turned out. 

He thinks he might have a knack for this, like his ever anxious mind finds some solace in the clicking of the camera. Prompto always needed something to do with his hands, its why he picked guitar, why he wrote so much. He doesnt think he can ever write again, not like he did. The band was everything, but there’s no point now.

Prompto had one chance, and he chose the wrong ones to trust with it. He’s thankful for Aranea, and its not long before he’s getting _ paid _for his photos. Band shoots, gigs, suddenly he’s nearly at the top. Prompto gets tour offers, halfway across Lucis taking photos for people he once played shows for.

He misses playing. Prompto still feels himself yearning for the lights, despite the fact they always felt like they were burning him. He knows he had something, and it slipped through his fingers.

Kingsglaive falls apart, members going off to do 9 to 5 jobs and live real lives, and they form a supergroup with Noctis gets tired of solo shows. Prompto takes photos at their first show, and theres already labels chasing them by the second. 

Years later, Prompto will get a call asking him to take photos of a 50 show tour for Citadel. He always knew Noctis would be something, and he tries not to be jealous. He’s read all about it, the rehab stints, the tragedy, but he knows what its like. He smokes a little too much weed, and if Aranea still hides the alcohol on a bad day, thats between the two of them. 

The difference is, people care if Noctis nearly drinks himself to death.

Everyones forgotten about Promptos singing days, save a handful of people, and Ardyn rose up in the ranks behind the scenes at a bunch of record labels. He could make a name for himself as a photographer, and he’s happy enough to watch from the sidelines. Prompto filled himself with tattoos, odes to the bands who made it where he couldn’t, words and symbols that could make him hope that maybe one day he’ll stand a chance. 

Prompto thinks that Noctis wouldn’t remember him, the boy who faded into obscurity. He’s 27 now, and its been nearly a decade since he last stood on a stage. Just a self recorded ep and some demos to his name, and Prompto Argentum was lost to the ages.

Part of him hopes Noctis does remember him. He thinks that maybe those hazy backstage moments may have meant something to him too, that the few times they did get to talk left an impact. Promptos taken photos of them every time they’ve played a hometown show, shown them at galleries and won awards for them. 

Prompto made a name for himself, worked too hard to turn down a full tour of Lucis just to mope at home and hope for freelance gigs. Aranea would kill him if he didn’t take it, and she’d probably appreciate some alone time with Cindy too. 

Prompto rubs at the tattoo on his forearm, a palm tree and a noose, with words wrapped around it like it could protect him, a tattoo he got for Citadel once that first album came out. He does it to comfort himself, to remind him that he made it this far, and he types out an acceptance email and hopes this tour changes things for him. 

There’s nowhere to go but up after you hit rock bottom. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for getting through it! this AU was born from one of the worst periods of my life, and i wanted to try working through it all again. stick around for the big AU, or hit me up on twitter for me to scream i guess.
> 
> twitter: pitiossruins


End file.
